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PROF. MARCUS BLAKEY ALLMOND. 



Pmirfmx, 



A NARRATIVE POEM. 



MARCUS BLAKEY ALLMOND, A.M., 

Magazine Medalist, University of Virginia; Head-niaster, The Uni- 
versity School, 104 East Jacob Street, Louisville, Ky.; Author 
of ''Estelle and Other Poems," "Agricola," "Outlines 
of Latin Syntax," Etc., Etc. 



SECOND EDITION. 
Published hy the Author, Louisville, Ky. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1892, by 

MARCUS B. ALLMOND, 
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 

All Rights Reserved. 

Gift 
Author 

(Pertt:.^) 

9 Mr 'OR 



PREFACE. 



A few years ago I published " Estelle." The first edition 
soon went and the second edition of one thousand copies 
is about exhausted. But recently, from California, Iowa, 
Texas, Kentucky and Virginia came a call for it the same 
week. It is useless, therefore, to say there are not some 
to whom these rhymes, that come to me as songs to birds, 
are not pleasurable. Of one thing I feel sure — they can 
not bring harm to a human soul, and, if I may trust the 
letters I have received, they have carried a bit of freshness 
and comfort to many smitten by the hand of sorrow, and 
they have drawn closer together young hearts in a holy 
gladness that comes but once in a life-time and is worth the 
loving endeavor of the grandest hero who has ever looked 
into the grim cannon's murderous mouth for his country's 
welfare. If it be true that he who causes two blades of 
grass to grow where formerly there was but one is a patriot, 
can it be less true that he is a patriot who heightens the 
mutual esteem of two tender young hearts, sheds sunshine 
and gladness into them and makes them even for one brief 
moment dream that the world is indeed beautiful and life 
is indeed worth living? All too soon many clouds will 
darken the landscape for them. While still they may 
enjoy the golden glories of the dawn-lit lands "in the 
morning time" (to quote my litde boy) of life, why shall 



PREFACE. 

not I do. my best to help them in honest and honorable, if 
simple, wise. This at least is my chief thought and on it 
I rest my case. For, pardon me, if I admit that, owing to 
the chilling, commercial atmosphere in which we live, I 
feel that I have a case to plead, when I commit the rash- 
ness of a rhyme for the sake of good fellowship merely and 
with no distinct and ultimate purpose of pecuniary or 
political preferment. The Prince of this world reckons our 
station by what we have, not what we are; by what we 
get, not what we give, and we may not expect his smile 
nor receive the unction of his benediction; but there are 
subtle and abiding pleasures that many a humble heart has 
that the Prince of this world knows not nor can ever know, 
gives not nor can ever give, takes not away nor can ever 
take. These in the secret silences of my life I enjoy and 
out of them I look with serenity upon the busy, battling 
crowds that surge about me — many of them the votaries of 
the Prince who applauds the winner, win he never so 
ignobly, and ignores the vanquished, be his cause as grand 
as that of Leonidas and his heart as pure as the very lily's. 
Expecting therefore nothing from the exchequers of the 
mart, conscious of the purity of my purposes and my life, 
asking nothing but that my friends be my good friends still, 
and resolved as much as in me lies to be at peace with all 
the world, I am, in God's hands, 

THE AUTHOR. 

THE UNIVERSITY SCHOOL, 

104 East Jacob Street, 

Louisville, Ky., November 24th, 1892. 



TO ONE AND ALL. 



Again, amid the gliding years, 

L lay aside restricting fears, 

And venture noiv once more to give 

The world the life / daily live. 

These thoughts L set to jingling rhyme 

Are with me running all the time. 

1 can not down them if L would ; 

L would not down them if I could. 

They keep me on the hillsides green 

Or in the valleys down between ; 

They keep me 'mid the waving trees, 

The songs of birds and buzz of bees ; 

They keep me where the flowers bloom ; 

They sometimes lead me into gloom ; 

They lead me by the purling streams ; 

They lap me in Celestial dreams ; 

They fill my heart with boundless love, 

And lift my soul in prayer above. 

Good friends, who know and love me, you 

Have always been and still are true. 

I greet you witJi a loving smile, 

A good warm heart all free fro jn guile. 

My head goes often wrong L kiiow ; 

L would to God it ivere not so. 

My heart, is right {you know) and would 

Delight in ahvays doing good. 



TO ONE AND ALL. 

Despite all this, there will arise 
Some things we must antagonize. 
Some persons there will ever be 
Who ivith us all will disagree, 
A?id take amiss our best meant acts 
Nor wait for figu7'es or for facts. 
We can but do our best and trust 
God and the future will be just. 
We can but keep our hearts aglow 
With love and hope and tender flow 
Of kindly feeling and restrain 
Our hands from heaping murderous gain,- 
Then, if there be, as be there will, 
Those who'll not like our life-ivo7'k still. 
And spread their dislike with the tongue ; 
Still be our loving heart-songs sung. 
Unconscious of intended wrong. 
We move serenely life along 
With heart aglow with holy love 
Caught from Celestial spheres above, 
With hands extended still to do 
Some kindly act, O friends, for you, 
And eager to repay 7vith good 
Afoeman, if misunderstood 
We come beneath his anger dire 
And face his well-delivered fire. 
With hate toward none and love aglow 
Here's to you, friend. Here's to you, foe. 
May God, who rules with wisdom true. 
Bless you and me. All hail — Adieu, 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

I. THE CHASE i 

II. ON THE LAKE 9 

III. THE DEPARTURE 21 

IV. CREDE LYLE 25 

V. TO ARMS 37 

VI. CORDELE 43 

VII. REVENGE 47 

VHI. IN PERIL'S GRASP 51 

IX. THE GALA-NIGHT 57 

X. NOUS VERRONS 65 

XI. IN HIS VINEYARD 73 

XII. TO EACH HIS WAY 79 

XIII. SIMPLICITY 85 

XIV. SOLDIER, ON! 91 

XV. CORDELE 97 

XVI. THE COMBAT 105 

XVII. THE CHRISTMAS FETE 11^, 




THE CHASE. 



) IP the long length of "Gillet's Spur" 

The tired stag at noon-day went, 
And full twain dozen do^s, at least, 

The forest echoes tore and rent. 
He crossed the mountain's crown and sped 

On down the path that led below 
To where the circling valley spread 

A wealth of summer's golden glow. 
A thousand trees with life and leaf 

Were glad with hope and royal glee, 
Along the trail the frightened stag 

Now chose his panting way to flee. 
(I) 



THE CHASE. 

A thousand flowers bloomed and breathed 

Upon their beds of moss and loam; 
A thousand birds with throats made glad 

The precincts of their forest home. 
Still on and on the young stag ran 

Through winding woods, by forest streams, 
While from the mountain top there rose 

The dogs' shrill yelps and huntsmen's screams. 
Young Fairfax led the dashing crowd 

And Jules McMurdo followed near;* 
Sim Waldron next now bends him o'er 

And whispers in his horse's ear. 
With whip and steel the riders rash 

Leap over rocks and rails and all, 
And answer with a loud huzza 

The rushing hounds' far distant call, 
Or wind a horn whose echoes shrill 

Adown the mountain's side now sped. 
And reached the fleeino- staof and filled 

His heart with yet a deeper dread. 

(2) 



THE CHASE, 

The farm-house, white and large and strong-^ 

Embowered 'mid the shrubbery lay, 
While oak and beech and hickory vied 

To keep the summer's sun away. 
The mill-creek ran adown the vale 

And kissed the meadow-lands and sent 
Its dewy breath along the hills 

Where corn-rows ran and swayed and bent; 
And now far down the way it met 

"The Pond" and widened out and grew 
To be a pretty lake whose waves 

Were, like the skies above them, blue. 
The stag came onward at a pace 

That spoke his dread nor stopped nor stayed 
Until he reached the farm-house where 

He sought the women, sore afraid. 
Jean reached her lily arm and placed 

It 'round his neck in fond caress; 
He eyed her with a look that said, 

"She'll rescue me in my distress." 

(3) 



THE CHASE. 

Full many an hour had Jean and he 

Together roamed the woodlands o'er, 
Full many a time upon the heights 

Stopped at some neighbor's open door; 
Full many a time he'd circled 'round 

The pathway they had often gone; 
But ne'er before had his good ear 

Caught dogs' deep cry or huntsman's horn. 
**Be still my pretty deer," she said, 

''They shall not harm a single hair; 
Your mistress loves you and will show 

These saucy huntsmen what you are. " 
The light shown in her deep brown eyes, 

Her chestnut locks were rich and neat, 
Her cheeks were rosy, and her skin, 

A luscious hue, was soft and sweet. 
She smiled and opened lips that were 

As cherries in the May-time seem. 
Her pearly teeth were finer far 

Than poet ever yet could dream. 

(4) 



THE CHASE. 

She laughed and rippling music fell 

In merry waves upon the ear. 
She laughed, and when she did, she grew 

To all who heard her still more dear. 
Cordelia by her side now stood — 

Anon she turned about and laid 
Her hand upon the frightened deer — 

A pretty, blue-eyed city maid. 
The dogs were coming down the side 

Of long "^''No Business," and their cry 
Drew near and nearer to the house 

With threats that meant to kill or die. 
Cordele and Jean feared for their pet, 

And led it up the steps in rear, 
Along the porch-way to the hall, 

Along the hall-way, and, in fear, 
Up the long stair-way to the porch 

That crowned the front-view safe and high 

* A Mountain in Virginia. 

(5) 



THE CHASE. 

And looked o'er lowlands far and near 

And reaches of sweet azure sky. 
The porch door closed, they stood and saw 

The hounds now rush across the vale, 
And huntsmen dashing- down the way 

Swift and yet swifter on the trail. 
Cordele knelt down and put her arms 

About the deer's neck; Jean stood still 
And watched the coming cavalcade, 

Prepared to meet them with stout will. 
Her eyes flashed fire and lips were full 

Of ill-repressed emotion then; 
She well could meet, and meetinor rout 

An even score or more of men. 
The dogs came on and circled round 

The house and rested rieht below, 
And sent their cries that rose and seemed 

As bent to bring the poor thing woe. 

The huntsmen came at break-neck speed, 

And checked their horses, looked above 
(6) 



THE CHASE. 

And saw the quarry they pursued 

Safe in the arms of tender love. 
With lifted hats they craved them grace 

And got it right upon the spot; 
The farmer bade them light and tie 

Their reeking horses piping hot. 
Sim tipped a wink or two to Jules, 

But Fairfax cool ignored their sin, 
And stately as a lord of old 

He led his retinue within. 




(7) 




ON THE LAKE. 



T^HE summer is a leal, good 
time 

For those who have no anxious thought, 
Who catch the sunshine in their hearts 

And hold it there when once 'tis caught, 
Who meet and greet and smile and go 

And come again and bid adieu 
With kindly feeling for the old 

And goodly welcome to the new, 
Who ne'er grow old in life or heart, 

Come day or night, come weal or woe, 
But take in good part all that comes 

And thank their stars that it is so. 
Our huntsmen were a jolly set, 

And royally they took their glee — 

(9) 



ON THE LAKE. 

To chase a stag upon the height 

Or woo a maiden on the lea. 
The horses sought the meadows ereen, 

The masters sought the table long, 
The dimpled maidens sat between, 

And all went merry as a song. 
Cordele was soft and winning sweet. 

And Jean was stately in her grace. 
And wit and humor, persiflage 

And sense found each its proper place. 
The meal discussed, they then withdrew 

To where the spacious parlors were, 
And music lent its subtle charm 

To while away the time with cheer. 
* 'Cordele, Cordele, " the cry went up, 

''Cordele, a song?" The blue-eyed maid 
Then touched the keys and thus she sang 

The while her fingers nimbly played. 



(lO) 



ON THE LAKE. 



^an0» 



A stag came over the mountains, O ! 
A stag came over the mountains, O ! 
A stag came over the mountains, O ! 

And the dogs came following after. 
Three knights came over the mountains, O ! 
Three knights came over the mountains, O ! 
Three knights came over the mountains, O ! 

I "carn't" sing now for laughter, 
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, 

I "carn't" sing now for laughter. 

When wolves are out and abroad, my dear, 
When wolves are out and abroad, my dear,. 
When wolves are out and abroad, my dear, 

The lambs may look for danger. 
I've something to tell, you had better hear, 
I've something to tell, you had better hear, 
I've something to tell, you had better hear. 

Beware, beware the stranger. 
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, 

You had better beware the stranger. 



(II) 



ON- THE LAKE. 

Jules rose in well-feigned wrath and swore 

She wronged their knightly valor, and 
He gave his arm and led away 

The little beauty from the stand. 
They passed along the gravel walk 

On toward the lake's invitine brim, 
And Jean and Fairfax followed suit — 

A maiden aunt attended Sim. 
The sun was sinkine ii^ the west 

On downy beds of varied hues, 
The length 'ning shadows threw their arms 

Around the three embarking crews. 
Cordele and Jules sped on ahead, 

Fairfax and Jean kept to the right, 
Sim and the aunt — somewhat demure — 

Slow followed on, but still in sieht. 
Cordele was in her merry mood. 

And laughed and sang and talked and ran 
Her hand along the water's top 

And dared whate'er a maiden can. 

(12) 



ON THE LAKE. 

''I'm weary of the good and grand, 

I'm weary of the city's glare, 
I would I w^ere a bird and might 

Be free to skim the realms of air; 
I'd like to do whate'er I choose, 

I'd like to go where e'er I please, 
I'd like to say just what comes up 

And take the world in perfect ease. 
A woman — aye ! a woman, O ! 

They've got me fastened up in stays. 
They've got my feet encircled 'round 

With skirts that clog my path always. 

blasted bonds — a knife, a knife 
To cut them and to make me free. 

My life, my all I offer — take — 
For one sweet breath of liberty. 

1 care not for the dread 'on dit' 

That rules the world and makes it sin 

To step beyond the beaten path 

And view the mysteries within. 
(13) 



ON THE LAKE. 

Here's to thee, Mater Libertas, 

I raise thy standard and hurrah; 
Peace to him who now sues for peace, 

For him who sues for war, here's war, 
Cordele is free. She bids adieu 

To all restraints of time or tide; 
Come, speed the vessel straight ahead. 

And while we ride, why, let us ride. " 
Jules answered with a merry laugh 

And wicked twinkle in his eye: 
"Fair sister of the Eastern land 

I welcome your philosophy. 
Life is too short for serious things; 

The shadows lie alone the eround, 
The sunlight comes not every day, — 

Let's take it while it may be found. 
'Dum viviinus, vivamus,' then. 

The motto of our mutual plight, 

We twine the gilded light of day 

Around the gloomy form of night. 
(14) 



ON THE LAKE. 



Speed, vessel, o'er the waters blue. 
Speed, vessel, and our song shall be 

Henceforth, 'Hurrah for love and light,. 
Hurrah for love and liberty.'" 



Fairfax and Jean were soberer folks; 

They talked of many noble things. 
Of God and man and nature sweet. 

And all life's wondrous happenings. 
He loved a jest, enjoyed a laugh, 

And chased a deer or winged a bird. 
But still he loved the true and good, 

And most of all, God's Blessed Word. 
Whose heart is true can laugh as well 

As he whose heart is steeped in guile; 
Whose lips are pure can be as glad 

As he whose words are reeking vile. 

There is no clash between a song 

That gleams with merriment and glee 
(15) 



ON THE LAKE. 

And that Sweet One who Hved and died 

To bless the bleeding world and me. 
The noble name that Fairfax wore 

Was passport to the country wide; 
His presence at a farmer's door 

Made Jolly Welcome strut with pride. 
This made the house he had drawn near 

So warm and cheery at his sight; 
This gave to Jean the confidence 

To row abroad with coming night; 
She felt that at the oar-locks sat 

A man whose soul was Honor's own, 
Who ruled a realm far wider than 

A jeweled monarch on his throne — 
Himself, a vast intelligence, 

Wide fields of thoughts and lands of dream, 
The inner realms of consciousness; 

The hidden heavens which rounding gleam 
With worlds on worlds within them set 

And beauties of unreckoned worth 

(i6) 



ON THE LAKE. 

That make a home of endless bhss 

Out of the humblest heart on earth. 
Some natures are so nobly made 

We trust them with a perfect trust; 
Some forms so grandly fashioned are 

We can't believe them made of dust. 
They come at intervals as comes 

The bloom upon the century tree, — 
Are Philip Sidney in one age 

And in another Robert Lee. 
The seeds of their lives scattered through 

All the interstices of Time 
Will flower and fruit in every age, 

On every shore, in deeds sublime. 
Fairfax was one whom men revered, 

And women worshipped as a god; 
A leader born, he seemed to own 

Each inch of ground on which he trod. 
A subtle consciousness of worth 

Clothed all he did and all he said; 
(17) 



ON THE LAKE. 

He feared no living man, and yet 

Oft bowed before a pretty maid. 
He saw in woman's beauty glow 

The richest colors of the Hand 
Whose skill artistic paints the world 

And makes the humblest floweret grand. 
Her presence was a hidden song 

That thrilled him with a rich delight; 
A breezy freshness clothed his form, 

His face put on a newer light. 
When on his ear her accents fell. 

And on his sight there beamed her eye, 
For her he'd bare his arm and fight ; 

For her he'd win the day or die. 
Hail heroes of the elder time! 

Hail knitrhts that Arthur led of old! 
Sir Galahad were worth to-day 

A thousand knights whose god is gold. 

Fairfax now wound his horn, and lo! 

The three boats came from quarters wide, 
(i8) 



ON THE LAKE, 

And turned their prows the homeward way, 
Slow moving onward side by side. 

Cordele, the blue-eyed, raised the song, 
And all joined in with merry glee; 

The moon shone bright and sweet above, 
And touched them with her witchery. 




(19) 




THE DEPARTURE. 



HE morrow on the hill-tops 

stood 
And sun-light shone upon her 
face, 
The while her pretty smile would woo 

The huntsmen to another chase. 
They gave their squires the word to bring 

Their champing steeds from stables near, 
And, taking up their horns, they wound 
Their notes across the lowlands clear. 
The answering cry of hounds arose 

As eager for the coming fray; 
Cordele broke into song and held 
Her pretty cup in tempting way: 

(21) 



THE DEPARTURE. 

'Are you ready for the chase, my lads, 

Across the circHng plain ? 
Are you ready for the chase, my lads ? 

Here's to you once again. 
Lift the bugle, loose the leashes. 

Let your steeds now shake their mane, 
But before you ply the spurs, my lads, 

Here's to you once again. 

Are you ready for the chase, my lads, 

Upon the distant steep? 
Are you ready for the chase, my lads ? 

Here's to you long and deep. 
May the maidens that await you 

Have no reason e'er to weep; 
But before you ply the spurs, my lads. 

Here's to you long and deep. 

Are you ready for the chase, my lads. 

Across the rivers wide ? 
Are you ready for the chase, my lads ? 

Here's health, what e'er betide. 
Lift the bugle, loose the leashes, 

And your noble steeds bestride ; 
But before you ply your spurs, my lads, 

Here's health, whate'er betide." 

(22) 



THE DEPARTURE. 

The huntsmen cheered with Hfted hats 

And promised they would come again, — 
Sank rowels in their gallant steeds 

And sped across the pretty plain. 
The dogs were gone; their hayings deep 

Were heard upon the mountain's side 
Up which our heroes clambered now 

With something of a martial pride. 
The deeds of doughty prowess done 

Upon the eve of yesterday, 
Within their hearts in fondest thought 

Are stored forever now away; 
And, though they westward ride them now 

With manhood pulsing in each vein, 
Jules dreams of Cordele's merry mood 

And Fairfax walks with Jean again. 
They reached their homes and went their ways. 

The daily sun-rise came and went. 
Days waxed to weeks, weeks waxed to months, 

And seasons with the seasons blent. 
(23) 



THE DEPARTURE, 

Who once have met may, if they wish, 
And naught prevent yet meet again, 

Though mountains rise and surly threat 
The pretty poutings of the plain. 




(24) 




CREDE LYLE. 



SINEWY form, an eagle 
eye, 
A step elastic, and an arm 
Of Iron mould, — such was Crede 
Lyle— 

The owner of the neighboring farm. 
An alien to these parts, he knew 

The skill to make the harvest gleam 
With glorious plenty and the grass 

In velvet splendor clothe the stream. 
As now he moved beneath the trees 

And caueht the wild flower from its stalk, 
The boughs bent low and pricked their ears 
To listen to his fitful talk: 

(25) 



CREDE LYLE. 

**Her form is as a sculptor's dream, 

Her eye is magic's self and leads 
Me as a captive and my heart 

For closer fellowship still pleads. 
I know not what this force may be 

That lies within the inmost soul 
And will not down, but reaches forth 

And holds the whole man in control. 
I've simply met her as a friend 

Should meet a neighbor, yet I know 
She's set my flood of feelings all 

Now toward her with impulsive flow. 
A silent moon whose silver beam 

Falls o'er my being's rock-ribbed shore. 
She lashes or allays its waves — 

Its mistress now and evermore." 
An acorn from the tree now dropped; 

He turned his head; not far away 

Upon a clump of moss-grown rocks 

A pretty deer was now at play, 
(26) 



CREDE LYLE. 

Upon its neck great ribbons blue, — 

And ho! who's that who's just in sight— 
A ray of sunHght hidden there 

Within this almost sylvan night ? 
He kept the path that brought him near 

And tipped his hat to lovely Jean, 
Who smiled and wove the wild red-rose 

And cypress with the eglantine. 
"I like this land," now Lyle began, 

"For nature here is lavish, and 
Her bounties smiling group and bless 

The waiting eye on every hand. 
I wandered many a good league forth 

To find a spot would charm my stay 
Until I chanced on this, I love, — 

I hope — upon a lucky day. 
The generous soil responds with glee 

To kindly treatment and my bins 
O'erflow each year and life is passed 

Far from the orreat world's o^reater sins. 

(27) 



CREDE LYLE. 

A cloud o'erspread his brow just then. 

His words provoked a sleeping thought; 
To turn it off, he asked of Jean 

"What pretty thing was that she wrought?' 
"Oh! just a nosegay," she replied, 

"Of wild flowers that I thought I'd make 
For Tillie Dare, the invalid. 

Who lives down yonder by the lake. 
And wont you help me just a bit ? 

Be neighborly and get me now 
That honey-suckle standing there, 

Those pretty leaves from off that bough." 
Lyle answered now her every wish. 

And heaped the rock she sat upon 
With all the orifts the forest has 

o 

Until her kindly work was done. 
Then on they moved and came at length 

To where the mill-creek turned the wheel, 

(\nd Tillie Dare lay pale and weak, 

W^here sun-rays through the shadows steal 
(28) 



CREDE LYLE. 

And try to cheer her Hngering days 

That need but Httle here below 
Save human sympathy and love 

To lighten with their tender glow. 
Poor Tillie knew her days were few, 

Yet repined not, but in good part 
Bore her sad lot and gave to Jean 

Warm thanks from out a grateful heart. 
"How good you are to come and see 

My fiick'ring life hang quiv'ring here! 
The smile you bring and kindly word 

Fill me always with sunnier cheer. 
Our lives are as the days that go, 

Or bright with sun or dark with cloud. 
They bring to men or weal or woe, 

And bless or blio^ht the circlinor crowd. 

o o 

Blest is the life that's hid with God, 

Whose pathway is a ray of light 

To heal the stroke of Time's rough rod 

And make the gloomy world's heart bright. 
(29) 



CREDE LYLE. 

To him who livinor Hfts his race 

To see and know the sweeter ways 
Of his eood Master, death is erace 

And plentitude of endless praise. 
The wide circumference of soul 

That circles through the lives of men 
To bless with fellowship the whole 

Finds death but life beo-un aofain. 

o o 

God rules — the Maker of all thino^s, 

He crowns the toiler with His rest — 
A blessed life in death still brino-s 

o 

The blessing of all blessings best. 
How envied then you, needs, should be 

By all whose lives your sweet life touch, 
Not for the wealth that smiles around, 

But that your hand has done so much! 
I soon must go, but from the skies 

I send my prayer that God may bless 

The orentle heart whose orentle hand 

Relieves the stricken in distress." 
(30) 



CREDE LYLE. 

Jean blushed and kissed the palHd brow; 

Lyle looked at Jean and thought, "I own 
This is the queenliest woman that 

Was ever on or off a throne." 
With kindly parting words they went 

Along the lake's o'ershadowed brim; 
The pretty deer ran at their side, 

Or plunged into the lake to swim. 
Lyle wished he had the will to say 

All his heart felt, but 't was in vain; 
So he resolved he'd put it off. 

Until by chance they met again. 
They talked as people who have read 

And travelled much are wont to talk, 
And found when they had reached her home 

They each had had a pleasant walk. 
The shades of eve were coming on, 

When Credo bade adieu and went 

His homeward way with busy thoughts 

And head unconscious downward bent. 
(31) 



CREDE LYLE. 

What thoughts he thought — what memories 
woke — 

I can not tell, I only know 
His brow was pursed, his hand was clenched, 

He struggled with some hidden woe. 
He muttered to himself strange words 

Of "fate" and "wrone" and "who could 
tell?" 
When on his ear a cheery song. 

Yet tinged with sorrow, sudden fell. 
He looked and there the cottage home 

Of Embry Duncan lay before, 
And "Luce, "his daughter, swuno- the churn 

And sang just out the vine-clad door : 



(32) 



CREDE LYLE. 



* 'Dapple Daisy down the meadow lowing comi^ back, 
And the calf within the cowpen runs the beaten track. 
Each is happy with the thinking of the meeting near, 
But I sit and wait still wishing for thy coming, dear. 

Churn, go forward. 

Churn, go backward. 
While my song must be : 

Come, butter, come, 

Come, butter, come, 
And come, my love, to me. 

Birds are singing gaily upon bush and tree ; 
Each as happy with its mate as a bird can be. 
If they part a moment, they soon meet again; 
But thy lingering, loved one, gives me endless pain. 

Churn, go forward, 

Churn, go backward. 
While my song must be : 

Come, butter, come. 

Come, butter, come. 
And come, my love, to me." 



iZZ) 



CREDE LYLE. 

He shook his head as on he passed. 

''Sweet child," he thought, *'you do not 
know 
Nor ever will, I hope, the depths — 

The deepest depths of hidden woe. 
The bloom is on your pretty cheek. 

Be patient and he'll soon be here. 
The butter comes and so comes he 

To give you joy and share your cheer. 
Who sighs for wider sweep of life 

But sighs for wider chance of wrong. 
May all the 'endless pain' you have 

Flow forth, my pretty maid, in song. 
And, while it sweetens your pent heart, 

Make glad the wings of neighboring air, 
And bless alike the maker and 

The object of your gentle prayer. 
For me, ah! well" — he crossed the creek, 

Passed through the gate and stood 
before 

(34) 



CREDE LYLE. 



His home, reached out and turned the knob 
Passed in and locked the heavy door. 




(35) 




TO ARMS. 



5 TERN war arose. The rolling- drum 
And shrill voiced fife were calling men 
To arms! to arms! and tramping feet 

Throughout the land were heard again. 
Fairfax rode o'er his acres wide, 

And viewed them in their laughing wealth. 
His workmen met him with a smile, 

Rejoicing in their homes and health. 
He siofhed to think of what he'd read 

Of war and its destructive hand. 



TO ARMS. 

And wondered when the Master's love 

Would bring sweet peace to every land. 
He loved his country and her rights, — 

His mother State far best of all, 
And there resolved he'd draw no sword 

Save at her most emphatic call. 
But then, alas! too soon it came — 

The tide of battle sweeping by; 
He saw his State's dread jeopardy 

And heard her to her children cry. 
Along the vales, upon the hills, 

Th' awakened farmers gathered then 
And looked about them for a man — 

The leader of his fellow-men. 
All tongues cried out, ''Fairfax, Fairfax" - 

All eyes now sought him from afar. 
Jules, Sim and hundreds more now came 

To have him lead them forth to war. 
He donned his uniform and sword 

And mounted on his famous steed. 



TO ARMS. 

With will to meet the stoutest foe 

And heart to pity those who'd bleed. 
Still more and more the throng increased 

Till all the old ''militia ground" 
Was filled with farmers, workmen, all 

Who lived for miles and miles around. 
The drilling squadrons moved by day; 

The camp-fires glowed at fall of night; 
The hearts of men seemed bent upon 

One thought alone ''to fight, to fight." 
Fairfax moved here and there and made 

Arrangements for th' unlettered crowd. 
While in his sacred heart he bore 

A silent prayer, their talk was loud. 
They clamored for the coming fight 

And revelled in the thought of gore; 
He prayed within his heart for peace — 

For peace and brotherhood once more. 
For war is war, terrific and 

The hand of passion running mad, 

(39) 



TO ARMS. 

The woe of woman and the worst 

Of foes a child has ever had. 
The savings of unnumbered years, 

The guidings of a father's hand, 
The generous promptings of the heart 

When peace and plenty fill the land; 
These in wild flames are swept away. 

And on the coming youth is thrown 
The harvest of unnumbered woes, 

Thick through the coming morrows sown. 

o o 

This Fairfax knew and on his brow 

Care stamped her wrinkle, and his heart 
Was heavy with the woes he knew 

Were War's own bitter, bounden part. 
Alone upon his matchless steed 

Across the hill, across the plain, 
And o'er the mountains was he come 

To sweet ** Glen-Mary" once again. 
Jean met him with a smile of peace, 

A hand that good, warm welcome gave; 

(40) 



TO ARMS. 

But sorrowed at his serious brow 

And martial manner stern and grave. 

At hour fitting forth they went, 
Beneath the overhanging trees, 

In quiet chat of events which 

Would soon be winged across the seas. 




(41) 




CORDELE. 



HE smoke was hanging thick 

and grim 
Above the city's throbbing 
heart, 

Where pulsed the blood of traffic and 
Where pined in poverty High Art. 
The greedy herd moved on and bowed 

With one accord to Mammon's sway, — 
With vice they thrilled the heart of night, 

With painted virtue cheated day. 
A pretty mansion rising high 

Upon a noted thoroughfare — 
A cosy chamber — windows wide — 
And Cordele reading sitting there; — 

(43) 



CORDELE. 

This is the picture, and we hear 

The words she reads — this blue-eyed 
belle— 
"I come, Cordele, the war is on; 

I come, my love, to bid farewell." 
''He comes — dear Jules! He comes, and I 

Shall scatter roses in his way. 
My father's wealth shall gild the night 

And frame in joy the fleeting day. 
He's made it and I know not how. 

He o-ives it time he ne'er g^ave me. 
I'll spend it as I get a chance 

In many a jolly jamboree. 
Come, Jules, soul of my soul, and we. 

My naughty soldier-boy, shall sound 
The depth of every jollity. 

That in this city may be found. 
So that I drink the bumper full 

The present moment gives, I care 



(44) 



CORDELE. 

No whit for all the after moons 

That wax and wane, however fair. 
The heart that built this mansion grand 

Knows nothing of those softer things 
(The goody good will prate of them) 

About which every poet sings. 
He lauofhs to scorn these Christian thoughts, 

And I but echo in my heart 
The thoughts that days and months and 
years 

Have been of him the larger part. 
Here's to thee, sweet Utility, 

His end and aim the dollar is, 
Mine is my pleasure and I find 

That mine is mine, since his is his. 
Servant, ahoy! bring up the cup 

Thy master drinks his wine from, I 
Will see if I can quench my thirst 

As he does often when he's dry. 



(45) 



CORDELE. 

Bring me a 'Ouida.' Let me read 

Of gilded sin as virtue rare. 
If callers ring, tell them, I pray, 

I've gone a driving — anywhere. 
So that I get my ease, I care 

But little for this social whir 
That money buys. Sweet Voluptas, 

I am your loving worshipper. 
Come, Jules, and join me and we'll find 

Two hearts that beat for aye as one; 
Here's to thee, con amore, mine — 

A bumper, once, twice, thrice, I've done." 




(46) 



REVENGE. 




^REDE LYLE was reared upon 
^ the lap 
Of Luxury, and his life had 
lain 
Amid a stormy war of words 

Wrought by the miser-heart of Gain. 
Nor had the conflict stopped with words, 

But Passion stirred the pistol's flame; — 
A human life was offered up 

To satisfy fell Anger's claim. 
His mother was a vengeful soul 

Who ne'er forgave a conceived harm. 
But nursed her wrath against the day 
She could assuage it with her arm. 

(47) 



REVENGE. 

Hamilcar-like she led her charge — 

A dimpled boy — and made him swear 
Eternal veneeance on each head 

Her caprice chose just anywhere. 
Enough she had to squander far 

In idle chance and yet her greed 
Still clamored more and more for more 

Than any human soul could need. 
An honored name was linked in trade 

With her dead husband's, and she 
dreamed 
A wrong was wrought her, and her eye 

At mention of that eood name eleamed. 
The wordy war had lingered on 

In suit with suit in common law, 
Till Justice cast it out at length, 

And stirred her with its solemn awe. 
She took redress unto herself 

And, leading by his hand her boy, 



(48) 



REVENGE. 

She made him fire the fatal shot 

That slew a household's tender joy — 
The gentlest of his race and best — 

The eldest of the Fairfax name, 
Whose fancied wrong she'd laid away 

And nurtured as a holy flame. 
The hand of Law had siezed and placed 

Her frenzied soul in "durance vile;" 
For life, the nation's miardians thought 

It best to house her witless euile. 
For safety's sake Crede went elsewhere; 

But she had nursed his wrath to fiame 
And urged and urged him ne'er to leave. 

On her cursed soul, one of that name. 
One day he heard Jean mention — what? 

The Fairfax name and speak its praise. 
His heart leaped high and passion stirred 

As it had stirred in other days. 
She told him of the comine war — 

o 

The tramp of men and loud alarms — 

(49) 



REVENGE. 

The flocking of the freemen all 

In answer to the call to arms. 
And, when he learned that Fairfax led 

The embattled hosts, his spirit stirred 
To lead his foes and meet him yet, — 

But still he spoke no bitter word. 
Henceforth in vale and mountain dell 

He souofht for comrades for his flao-, 
And trained them to the use of arms 

On lowland leas and upland crag. 
For one fell purpose they were called — 

A holy one to him he dreamed; — 
To slay a wrecker of his home, 

Each drawn and sharpened sword now 
gleamed. 
He tutored them in sweet revenge. 

And told them of his mother's wrongs. 
They mixed their anger in their cups 

And sang it in their battle songs. 



(50) 



IN PERIL'S GRASP. 




1 I I HEN Fairfax now at 
that calm hour 
Forth 'neath the trees 
walked arm in arm 
With pretty Jean, he never dreamt 

An eye was near that meant him harm. 
Crede Lyle, as fate would have it, walked 

In meditative mood along, 
And every thought was teeming now 

With something of his fancied wrong. 
When suddenly he saw quite near 
Two forms majestic moving on; 
He stepped from off the path and stood 

Behind the heavy scented thorn. 

(51) 



IN PERIVS GRASP. 

Too deep their thoughts imbedded were 

In events fraught with thousands' fate 
To scan the pretty landscape for 

The nurser of a hidden hate. 
Lyle's eye was gleaming and his heart 

Was beatino- as 't would burst in twain. 
His passion ebbed and flowed and ebbed 

And flowed and ebbed and flowed again. 
He took his pistol — cocked it — raised 

His hand and took deliberate aim; 
Jean moving on and talking soft 

Unconscious now between them came. 
"Poor human beings," thus she spoke, 

"There is, I think, enough of woe 
In this sweet world for men who're men 

To stop and think and know it's so. 
Before they draw their swords and try 

To hew each other and make moan 

For thousands who on either side 

Are doubly dear unto their own. 
(52) 



IN PERILS GRASP. 

There was a time when Odin ruled 

And Hogni's heart on dish was laid 
And served to Gunnar and he smiled 

With calm sweet joy as sooth he said: 
'The heart of Hogni by the side 

Of timid Hialli's heart has rest; 
It trembles little in the dish, 

It trembled less while in his breast. 
I'll roast and eat it — drink its blood 

To give my heart a stouter stroke, 
And teach my hand a readier skill 

To wield the knife or club of oak. 
My happiness in battle lies. 

Red slaughter is the soldier's part. 
Ah! what is sweeter than the blood 

Drunk warm from out a foeman's heart ?' 
But Christ is come. Peace and good-will, 

These are the new world's corner stones. 

For every woe a glad, new joy 

And healing hands for broken bones. 
(53) 



IN PERIVS GRASP. 

Fie on the man who can not bear 

A wrong and right it with a good! 
Shall all the centuries come and go 

And lift us to no better mood? 
Does Odin reign that any now 

Should batten on a brother's woe? 
Christ finds a kinsman hidden there 

Beneath the jacket of a foe. 
Come, men, be nie^t and right your wrongs 

As 7ne7i with men should right them now. 
With Christ's love warm within your hearts 

And Christ's truth written on your brow. " 
Crede Lyle heard all her sweet voice spoke; 

He dropped his pistol by his side. 
They walked on quite unconscious still 

Amid the forests sweeping wide. 
What Fairfax said in his response 

Was what a man of honor should. 
Crede turned upon his heel and went 

Straight on and out the brooding wood. 

(54) 



IN PERIVS GRASP. 

"For her dear sake I let him Hve, 

I yet shall wing him on the way. 
He knows not that a tiger lies 

Close by to spring upon its prey." 
At once he sped him to the home 

Of Embry Duncan and conferred 
Upon the time of rendez-vous — 

The speeding of the clarion word 
That was to gather from the dells, 

The crags high up the mountains' side, 
The swift hands that could wing a hawk 

Or split the panther's fluffy hide. 
And as he talked with Embry there 

Luce sat a spinning in the room. 
Or gathered from the pretty grass 

The leaves, new fallen, with her broom. 
She listened to their plans and felt 

Her blood creep cold in every vein. 
They spoke of death. Her father's name, 

Her lover's now she heard again. 

(55) 



IN PEE IV S GRASP. 

What, if her father fell in fight? 

What, if her lover died too soon? 
These bitter thouofhts ran throuo^h her mind 

And chilled her all the afternoon. 




(56) 



THE GALA-NIGHT. 



'7"IS presto and we make a 
chano-e 



f/H^ To where the city's surging 

1^ tide 

^ Flows streaming through its 

' ' thoroughfares 

'Neath lights that flare and flicker wide. 
Here stands apart sad squalor now — 

A home where horror loves to dwell, 
That reeks with all the vices and 

The passions of an earthly hell. 
Now yonder is a pale, sweet child 

That drinks the germs of death that lie 
Upon the stench of stagnant pools 

That turn the nose and fret the eye. 

(57) 



THE GALA-NIGHT. 

Beyond, the car-bells jingle clear 

Upon the air. Anon the gleam 
Of rich electric arcs that pour 

Their pretty lights in constant stream. 
The bawd's loud laugh re-echoes now 

Her victim's bitter charge and see 
The erring lad now staggers by — 

A dupe to wine's sad witchery. 
An open door; the blind awry; 

A wretch within with lifted cup; 
An oath; a burly form that sits 

Swift from its seat now rises up; 
A dagger gleams; we pass along. 

Two porters bear a burden here; 
A beggar lifts her hand and pleads 

With quivering voice and falling tear; 
Three wao^ons oro in hurried rush; 

A lad belated cries the news; 

A shopman takes and stores away 

A string of antiquated shoes; 
(58) 



THE GALA-NIGHT. 



Two merchants arm in arm now walk 

Upon this better thoroughfare; 
A maiden and a youth make love 

Just at the foot of this broad stair; 
A couple — richly clad and prim — 

Pass on to see the famous play; 
A carriage with its owner comes — 

A pretty chestnut and a gray; 
A loiterer lingers 'long the street 

Pries in the windows, scans them lone; 
An urchin, ragged, happy faced. 

Breaks into snatches of sweet sone. 
The noise grows less and less and now 

The yards lie round the mansions, and 
The eye beholds a sweeping stretch 

Of massive structures rising grand. 
The trees in leaf, the flowers in bloom, 

The grasses soft and rich and green, 
And fountains playing pretty streams 

At intervals now set between, 

(59) 



THE GALA-NIGHT. 

Make all the air as fresh and sweet 

As grottoes of the pretty fay 
Who revels in fair Nature's lap 

Upon a charming summer day. 
Here rising up was Cordele's home — 

A flood of light, a breathing bower 
Of wondrous beauty, wreathed and sweet 

With buntinof and with bloomingr flower. 
A gala-night she makes it now. 

And crowds of friends are streaming in. 
Erelong the waiting ear is glad, — 

The baton bids the ball begin. 
The pretty dancers come and go 

Like fire-flies on the meadow-land 
Or swells of dashinof billows that 

Roll up and off the sea-swept sand. 
The gleam of gold, the brilliant flash 

Of diamond and encircling pearl 

Adorn alike the matron and 

The pretty stripling of a girl. 
(60) 



THE GALA-NIGHT. 

The silk and satin gleam and mix 

With tulle and brocade and fine lace, 
Each pretty color 'ranged to make 

More pretty still each pretty face. 
And arms and necks and shoulders rise 

In rounded plumpness quite as fair 
As snow-flakes on their gentle way 

From out the realms of upper air. 
''O Life! O Life!" sighed Cordele as 

She rested now within the arm 
Of Jules, whose gaze she riveted 

As with a subtle, ceaseless charm. 
He never saw her eye so blue. 

The color on her cheek so rare. 
Such pretty, golden, shimmering light. 

Enmeshed within her glorious hair; 
Nor heard her laugh as waters pour 

Such rippling music on his ear; 
Nor felt her pretty little foot 

Trip 'round him half so light and clear. 

(6i) 



THE GALA-NIGHT. 

The modiste and the maid had both 

Conspired with Nature for a form, 
Would sweep his very breath away 

And take his whole heart as by storm. 
If e'er before there was a doubt 

Of his surrender to her wiles, 
It now forever dissipates 

Beneath the magic of her smiles. 
And she — ah! she, this paragon, 

This thing of beauty made to please. 
Yon looker-on can never dream 

That such as she are ill at ease; 
But where the music's pretty call 

Floats to the ear and all things seem 
As happy as a heart can be 

Are troubles we may never dream. 
Cordele has had her stubborn \\2^y, — 

The dancers come, the dancers eo; 

Their nimble feet are dancino- time 

Unto her everlasting woe. 
(62) 



THE GALA-NIGHT, 

The heart-aches and the pangs that be 

Amid the revels of the dance, 
Thank God! are hidden from the view 

Of all save His all-seeine elance. 
And those who see sweet beauty's spell 

And gladden at its witchery, 
May never know the things that are 

Or dream the thino-s that are to be. 

o 

God rules and He alone should know 
The Future and the Future's will; 

For He alone can put His arms 
Around us and can save us still. 




(63) 



NOUS VERRONS. 




ANOTHER day was 
/ come and now 



Fairfax prepared to 

bid adieu. 

His horse stood at the 

o^reat front eate; 

He lingered as most lovers do. 

Upon the heights Lyle ranged his troop 

And from an out-post, glass In hand, 

Bent forward scanning with his eye 

The reaches of out-lying land — 

He sees the horse, the rider sees. 

And turninor bids his comrades know 

Their prey is moving o'er the plain 

Which they had left an hour ago. 
(65) 



NOUS VERRONS. 

"No fooline when the moment comes. 
. Strike death to him and that right sure. 
He'll cross my path and thwart my plans 

With his dread presence never more." 
Unconscious of the lurking fate 

His hidden foe held for him now, 
Fairfax rode o'er the rich, brown road 

That clambered to the hillock's brow 
Then darted down and lay between 

Great stretches of sweet clover-field. 
And rose ao^ain where wavino- oats 

Unto wide sweeps of orchard yield. 
The blue-bird caroled on the limb; 

A lazy vulture sailed o'er head; 
A rabbit stealing from the field 

Now up the roadway startled sped; 
A cottage home soon comes in view; 

A bevy of gray geese now hiss; 

A barking dog jumps at the fence, 

And at the window sits a miss; 
(66) 



NOUS VERRONS. 

The creek beyond runs o'er the stones 

And deepens at the neighboring ford; 
Two oxen quench their raging thirst, 

Worn hot beneath the heavy load; 
The driver bows and keeps his eye 

Upon the stately horseman's form, 
Takes off his hat and with his cloth 

Wipes his tanned brow now reeking 
warm ; 
The sunlight lay on grasses sweet 

With subtle perfumes, and the air 
Was rich with exhalations that 

Rose up to greet him everywhere. 
His mind was busy with the calls 

Stern Duty placed upon his brow; 
His heart for peace was longing, but 

His country's thoughts were other now. 
Himself he needs must relegate 

Unto the rear, and bare his blade 



(67) 



NOUS VERRONS. 

To breast the issue that was come 

And he himself had never made. 
Still on he rode and pistols clicked 

Upon the height impatient still, 
And daggers gleamed and glowed to think 

They soon would have their own sweet 
will. 
Thus down the road of life we move 

And know not what before us lies 
Until, ere we have dared to dream, 

We face some sudden, sad surprise. 
For us whose eye is on the height 

And heart is with the rider true, 
There lurk in ambuscade e'en now 

Old Death and all his mystic crew. 
We drink the floods of neighb'ring air, 

And catch the bird's song in our ear; 
We spur our jade and whistle out 

And ever come more near and near; 



(68) 



NOUS VERRONS. 

We laueh, as lauo-h we should, and feel 

As one who owns an endless day; 
We take our golden hours and spill 

Their elad sweet wealth alongr the way. 
The monster lurks and whets his blade 

And licks his tongue in horrid or-lee. 
Ah! well, if serious thought were mixed 

With all our merry minstrelsy. 
For lo! where turns the roadway here 

A hand lies on the bridle now, 
And Fairfax — stop, stay, is it Death 

That miantles o'er his noble brow? 
Was that a flieht of whistline balls? 

Is that the orleam of daQ^-o-ers hio^h? 
A struesfle as of one who knows: 

"I win, I live; I lose, I die?" 
No. Gentle Lucy lifts her eyes 

And pleads the stranger keep the rights 
The foot-path that will bring him safe 

Around the dizzy, beetling height. 
(69) 



NOUS VERRONS. 

' 'Good friend, my father is up there 

And Mr. Lyle and he I love. 
They wait to slay you, so they say, 

Wait up the road there, just above. 
And oh! who knows but when they all, 

The many others, leap and strike, 
My father's or my lover's form 

May lie upon the rocky pike ? 
In here and quickly 'round them ride, 

For my sake, please, sir, wont you now ? 
That's right. God bless you. You are 
kind; 

Some day I'll pay you, friend, some 
how." 
Fairfax had read within her face 

The truth, as in the light of day, 
"Guerillas whom her childish fear 

Has robbed," he thouo-ht, "now of their 
prey." 



(70) 



NOUS VERRONS. 

And in he rode as one who knows 

The bravest are least quick to dare, 
Unless stern Duty, glory-crowned, 

Stands pointing while she whispers 
''There!' 
And Luce dashed from the roadway down 

And quick stole still through bending 
trees, 
And coming to her little room, 

Fell there upon her maiden knees. 
And prayed her God to save that one 

Whose heart was plighted to her own, 
And bring him back to dwell with her. 

And be for her and her alone. 
Oh! tender, pretty maiden thoughts! 

Oh! first love, how the after years 
Will mock you with their hollow laugh; 

In secret bless you 'mid their tears; 

Stretch out their arms and cry In pain. 

'*Oh! for the blessed days I knew, 
(71) 



NOUS VERRONS. 



Oh! for the sun-Hght that then clad 
The whole world in its golden hue. 




(72) 



IN HIS VINEYARD. 



GLEN MARY. 




LONG the vale Jean passed 
and bore 
Her blessings to unnumbered 
poor, 
Or scaled the rugged heights 
and stood 
A welcome guest before the door. 
The landscape laughing in its glee, 

The sono- of bird on soarine wino-, 
The leaflets on the bending tree. 

The waters gurgling from the spring, 
The varied hues of morn and eve. 

That clothed the east or w^estern sky, 



IN HIS VINEYARD. 

The rainbow resting on the peaks, 

The sunlit shower passing by, 
The grasses ranging o'er the fields 

And vieing with the oats and wheat. 
The hedge-rows hugging close the road, 

The sylvan wild-flowers at her feet, 
The loving faith her young deer showed 

When in her lap its soft head lay; — 
All these were chapters in a book 

That made her better every day. 
Through Nature up to Nature's God 

Her soul now leaped with subtle song; 
The Hand that made us is all right, 

It's we, good friends, who are all wron; 
And from the cross the message comes: 

"I am the way, I am the light: 
Peace and good-will upon the earth, 

And day will dawn upon the night, 
And woe that lurks from sun to sun 

And nestles in the human breast, 

(74) 



IN HIS VINEYARD. 

Will yield to peace — sweet peace that gives 

To His beloved endless rest. 
Not as the world knows is that peace 

That broods in gentle calm above 
The heart that God has touched and filled 

With his serener, better love. 
No gnawing tooth of bitter greed, 

No memory of a plotted wrong, 
Cuts endless in its inner core 

Or stills the voice of happy song; 
But, if the world's low treasures fly, 

The days serenely move them still, 
For all things work for good to those 

Who know and do God's lovine will, 
And seek to scatter little bits 

Of secret goodness 'long their way 
And lead the waning night of Greed 

Into Love's broader, sweeter day. 

For newer, fuller light upon 

The problems of our daily need, 
(75) 



IN HIS VINEYARD. 

This is the statesman's higher work, 

This is the churchman's better creed. 
A^ot gleaming treasures garnered 2ip 

By wrecking of a Jiuman S02d 
Is wealtJi, bitt zvealth is makins: o^ood 

And glad tJie circle y oil control. 
The rock that lies to spHnter wide 

Your neighbor's child's fair tiny ship, 
With higher strength remove and give 

The little tar a safer trip; 
And, when the tropic seas are his. 

Let him in fair return make sure 
He lade his ship in part for you, 

And bless you with his precious store. 
Thus age for youth makes life more sweet, 

And youth holds up the aged hand. 
And each shall turn his happy feet 

Unto the sweeter, better land." 
So Jean now thought and every where 

Her smiline face and gentle love 

(76) 



IN HIS VINEYARD. 

And tender hand and timely gift 

Her needing fellows bent above. 
She gave to one a kindly word, 

Another labor for the day, 
Another meat, and then she'd bend 

Here with another — bend and pray. 
A pretty book the young child got ; 

A new frock for the growing maid; 
A weary mother had a "help;" 

The farm-hand's doctor's bill was paid. 
But ever yonder was a thought 

With one on the embattled plain. 
She prayed her God that He might send 

Peace to her countrymen again. 




(77) 



TO EACH HIS WAY. 



EYOND the mountains far 
away 
The captains of unnumbered 
hosts 
J^=^^, Were busy at their routine 
:^^ work; 

The soldiers — each — were at 
their posts. 
In every heart there lay the thought 

For country it Is sweet to die, — 
This cheered the lonely sentry's step 
And brightened every leader's eye. 
One heart was touched with purpose grand; 
One mind was bent to weave a plan 

(79) 




TO EACH HIS WAY. 

Would win the day and gain them peace, 

Nor cost them yet another man. 
That soul was Fairfax and he knew 

Each by-path of the country 'round. 
He ran his thouehts in circuit out 

And chose for him his battle-Qfround. 
Slow days moved on by slower nights; 

His foemen grew impatient now. 
They fancied cowards in their front, 

And offered to the gods a vow 
To lash them with the willow's twigs 

And pull their noses in their face, 
"Since they had dipped their manhood in 

The cess-pools of a black disgrace; 
But Fairfax let them fret and fume, 

With brow serene and heart that knew 
The Future yet would parcel out 

The blatant soldier from the true. 
The night came down the mountain heights 

And rested on the restless foe, 

(80) 



TO EACH HIS WAY. 

Whose careless eye had ceased to guard 

As once it oruarded lone aeo. 

When morning dawns, a flag slow moves 

Along the vale; the couriers stay 

Just where the lazy general still 

Now wrapped in slumber snugly lay; 

''Your further fight is useless now," 

Thus spoke the spokesman in his ear, 

"Your past is glorious, but your doom 

Is sealed. I beg you listen, sir." 

He showed him then the workings of 

The master-mind that planned the whole. 

And further that the power once his 

Had now passed on from his control. 

To lengthen now the fight was just 

A waste of human lives, and so 

T were best to yield his sword and own 

The war was done, and turn and o-q 

Once more to happy homes where wives 

And children with their lovine arms 
(8i) 



TO EACH HIS WAY. 

Would welcome now their safe return 

From cruel war and war's alarms. 
So ran the compact and, forsooth, 

The gladdened victors tried to see 
How they could heal the wounded pride 

Wrought by their royal victory. 
The vanquished smiled and proffered hands, 

All save one sullen chieftain who 
With his sworn comrades picked his chance 

And from the mingling hosts withdrew. 
As some fierce bird of prey which slips 

The snare that held a moment fast, 
From crae to crae his fliofht he takes 

o o o 

As crag with crag is swiftly passed, 
And yonder where his aerie is 

He rests a moment from his flight, 
Then swoops to fright the heart of day 

And batten on his spoil at night; 
So Lyle now climbed the slumb'rous heights 

And sought secure a hiding place. 



TO EACH HIS WAY. 



Still vowing vengeance in his heart 
And wearing battle in his face. 




{^z) 




^'^^^ crr^S^y!0^1' V 



SIMPLICITY. 



f\ SOFT wind played adown the vale 
/ And toyed with the clover bloom, 

Peered in amid the tanofled orass, 

And whispered o'er the tawny broom,. 
Caught in its arms the humming bee, 

And put to flight the butterfly, 
And kissed the tulip's pretty lips 

And jonquils as it passed them by. 

It wreathed its young hands in the scent 

Of honeysuckles hanging near, 
(85) 



SIMPLICITY. 

And touched the touch-me-not and said: 

"Now, jump, you pretty little dear." 
It clambered up the hugh grape-vine, 

And shook the bio- leaves in ereat elee, 
And whispered to a lady-bug, 

"Are you here? I have got you. See." 
Then o-lanced below and caught a sio-ht 

Of Luce close by the cottage now. 
And jumped and put a pretty kiss 

Right on her pretty little brow. 
Then oped its eyes. Lo and behold! 

Luce stroked her kitten on her knee. 
And this was what the breeze then heard 

And wondered what it all could be. 



(86) 



SIMPLICITY 



''If you loved a little Kitzie 

And he was afar away, 
Would you be so happy, Kitzie, 
Happy as you are to-day ? 
Kitzie-cat, 
Tell me that. 

If you loved a little Kitzie, 

And a cruel huntsman came 
With his gun to shoot him, Kitzie, 
Would you love him just the same? 
Kitzie-cat, 
Tell me that. 

If you loved a little Kitzie, 

Would you weep and wish him here. 
Would you write a letter, Kitzie, 

Would you call him home, my dear? 
Kitzie-cat, 
Tell me that." 



(87) 



SIMPLICITY. 

Then a tear broke from her eye-Hd 

And ran coursing down her cheek, 
And her little lips now quivered 

And they could no longer speak. 
Then the thouofhtless little breeze 

That had laughed through all the day. 
Bent and with a tender prayer 

Kissed the little tear away — 
Put its arms about her form, — 

Laid her on its smitten breast. 
Lulled her wearied little heart 

With its sweetness into rest. 
Slowly stirred her from her thoughts, 

Taueht her labor eives relief 
When the pent and weary heart 

Bends beneath its heavy grief. 
And she rose and went her way 

Where the held-road ran alone ; 
As she passed the apple-tree 

Hummed herself a little song: 

(88) 



SIMPLICITY. 

"Love and trust 

And God will bless you. 
Wait, my heart. It's bound to be. 
God is good 

And wont distress you, 
If you'll wait, my heart, and see; 
If you'll wait, my heart, and see. 

Once my litde Kitzie lingered 

And I thought ' 'T will surely die. 

And I prayed my God to save her 
And he saved her by and by. 

Love and trust 

And God will bless you. 
Wait, my heart. It's bound to be. 
God is good 

And wont distress you. 
If you'll wait, my heart, and see; 
If you'll wait, my heart, and see.'' 



^Sm 



(89) 




'^^z^'^^^^^r^ 



SOLDIER, ON! 



7"HE fame of Fairfax filled the land. 

He stole him for a moment's rest 

To fair *'Glen Mary," where he owned 

The sweet surroundinors suited best. 

JVhe7i zuoes have o-athcred thick and fast 

And dark skies bend our path above, 
(91) 



SOLDIER, ON! 

What place so szueetf IVJiat heart so trice, 

As is the home, the heart we love? 
WJieii Victory zureaths zuith bays oitr brozus 

And Fame bedecks our path zuith Jlozvers, 
Our first thozigJit is the Jiome and heart — 

^TJie home and heart zue knozu is onrs. 
And thither with a loving tryst 

We make our way unto our own 
Far from the thoughtless crowd, whose 
shout 

Attends the victor's path alone, 
As ready as the surly hound 

To fall upon a fallen prey 
That its lonof tongue with bitter o^ibes 

Has tried to fell the live-long day. 
One thought now pursed his master brow — 

The serried band upon the height, 
Yet bent to break his country's laws 

And eager for the bloody fight. 



(92) 



SOLDIER, ON! 

He sought to know the chieftain's heart 

And learn the motive of his hate, 
And bring him to his country's fold 

Repentant, if repentant late. 
Jean fathomed all for him and told 

The story of Crede Lyle's sad life. 
Just as she heard it told by one 

Who was an arch insurorent's wife. 
Fairfax passed from his day's repose 

And took the reins in hand a^ain, 
With firm resolve to meet his foe 

And close at once his last campaign. 
Around him lay the camp fires now 

On hill and dale, a pretty sight, 
And in his tent he sat with brow 

O'er shadowed by the coming night. 
To win and wound not was the thought 

That to his heart was still most dear, 
AVhen through the gloaming stole a son: 

And fell upon his listening ear. 

(93) 



SOLDIER, ON! 



^olblcr, ®tt I 



Darkness comes without our wishing. 

We must bear as best we may, 
Knowing that its stars will light us 

To a brighter, better day. 

Cheer thy heart and bid it ''Courage! " 
Through the gloaming to the dawn. 

Holy angels bend and beckon. 

While they whisper, ''Soldier, On!" 

Hero of our daily being, 

Bearing wounds for Honor's sake. 
Let thy heart be glad within thee, 

Soon the roseate dawn will break ; — 

Soon the songs of birds will echo 
In the valleys far and near. 

And the world all robed in splendor 
Out of darkness will appear. 

He who bears the lonely watchings 
Of the night of gloom alone, 

Is the first who sees ,the day-king 
Seated on his golden throne. 



(94) 



SOLDIER, ON! 

Cheer thy heart and bid it, "Courage! ^ 
Through the gloaming to the dawn. 

Holy angels bend and beckon, 

While they whisper, "Soldier, On!" 




(95) 



CORDELE. 



EX TENEBRIS IN LUC EM. 




^HE busy wheels of Traffic 
roar 
And clatter on the llst'nino- 
ear; 



The columns of black smoke ascend 

Yet up and up and disappear. 
The teeming crowds are jogging, each 

In wild pursuit of hoarded pelf; 
And all seem bent alone upon 

"The bread and cheese upon the shelf." 
One lifts his mansion costly grand 

With millions in his coffers by, 

(97) 



CORDELE. 

Yet rushes as impelled by fate 

To make yet more before he die; 
Another sees and knows the thirst 

For wealth can never eet its fill, 
But follows swift upon its track 

And swifter and yet swifter still. 
As in some whirlpool swimmers strive 

To stem the billows and to rise 
Each o'er his fellow to a height 

Will face the frontlet of the skies, 
And fear to leave the stroke unmade 

Lest haply they may sink to doom 
And flounder as a soggy log 

Ignobly to a watery tomb; 
So here within this bustling mart, 

Each on this thronged and narrow street 
, Now toils, yet finds no stay nor rest. 

No place for tired brain and feet. 
Each day he speeds as though the life 

Of millions hung upon his speed; 

(98) 



CORDELE. 

He gets and gets and gets and gets 

And finds he Is still more in need. 
When night comes on and morning stars 

Rise sweet within the eastern skies, 
He goes to bed but downy sleep 

Is still a stranger to his eyes. 
In visions of his fevered thouo^ht 

The orame runs on, "I win, I lose/' 
He is the victim of the fate 

The thoughtless thousands rashly 
choose; 
For in his house this day and hour 

The child whose all, his all's to be, 
Sobs with a heart that moans to know 

Wealth is not loving sympathy. 
For through the past years sown full 
thick 

Are hours she needed his heart's beat 

To soothe and soften and his hand 

To lead her wicked little feet. 
(99) 



CORDELE, 

If haply wilful she essayed 

His will to thwart, he shook his hst 
And swore an oath. She passed from 
sight 

And went where her rash heart might 
list, 
And did whate'er her angered pride 

And spiteful turn might deem her will. 
Her busy father thought to soothe, 

If he would only foot each bill. 
And so she ran the round of all 

An aimless life of pleasure hath. 
And doubling on her track she came 

All weary down the olden path. 
And sighed for rest and sighed for peace 

And raised to God her feeble prayer. 
That some eood hand would lead her 
heart 

From out these realms of dark 
despair — 

(lOO) 



CORDELE. 

These shades where strove in useless strife 

The poverty-stricken rich who need 
For ill-fed minds and Jinngry sonls 

The hale food of the Christian creed. 
She fell on sleep and dreams there came 

Of rescue and of peace at last, — 
Of tender words and orentle arms 

Around her shrinking fiorure cast. 
She woke to find her throbbine brow 

On Jean's good heart. She raised her 
eyes; 
"Where did you come from? Surely,. 
God 

In love has sent you from the skies. 
Oh! Jean, this wayward world does wrong 

To think its heart can e'er find rest 
Save in His arms, save in His love. 

Save on His sympathetic breast. 
I've run the round. I know it all. 

It's hollow mockery they call fun. 

(lOl) 



CORDELE. 

There is no joy like that they know 

Who say, 'O God, thy will be done.' 
Good friend, I love to hear your heart 

Sing its sweet music in my ear. 
Methinks my weary soul would like 

To breathe its worthless self out here. 
You know 'way down the by-gone days, 

I half-way dreamed of love and truth 
And all those pretty things you've known. 

And decked your life with from your 
youth. 
But oh! the chilline air of ereed, 

Th' insatiate maelstrom, more and more 
Swept my frail bark upon the seas 

Far from that balmy blessed shore. 
And I have lived — God pity me — 

God pity me and send me rest. 
Jean, hold me closer, wont you, dear? 

Still closer to your loving breast. 



(I02) 



CORDELE. 

Oh! could I die just here and now, 

I think I surely would be blest. 
Jean, hold me closer, wont you, dear? 

Still closer to your loving breast. 
Oh! This is o-ood. The storm-tossed bird 

Is once aofain within its nest. 
Jean, hold me closer, wont you, dear? 

Still closer to your loving breast." 




{103) 



THE COMBAT. 




HERE beetling 




arise, 

A bitter heart now 

lonQTs for fiofht. 

His 'leaguered hosts with restless, step 

Speed loit'ring day, curse coming night. 

With heartless taunt they cry to know 

Why those whose bulwarks rise on high 

Meet not on mid-way ground and fight 

Like men and win the day or die. 

The patient Fairfax heard it all 

And ran the problem through his mind, 
(105) 



THE COMBAT. 

*'This is a private grievance and 

A private settlement should find. 
Why need the hundreds who are here 

Spill their life-blood — a useless fate? 
He does my country public wrong, 

Because he bears me private hate. 
I'll meet him and let God and skill 

Decide at once what they deem best." 
Then peaceful as a pretty babe, 

The euileless chieftain seeks his rest. 
When mornino- came, a flae ascends 

The topmost peak — a parley pleads — 
Crede Lyle consents on testy ground 

That Fairfax quickly state his needs. 
Mid-way the hosts, the stainless knight 

Asks that his foe give reason why 
As man with man they can not bring 

Their quarrel to an end. The eye 
Of Lyle flashed fire and his teeth 

Shone as a tiofer's keen and white. 

(io6) 



THE COMBAT. 

''There is but one thing, sir, to do — 

And that thine is to draw and fior-ht." 
* 'Agreed, " said Fairfax, ''if you'll make 

This compact: All on either side 
Must swear they will abstain from fight 

And by the issue then abide. 
And, if I fall or if I win, 

One thing alone of yours and you: 
To yonder flag henceforth and now 

You swear forever to be true." 
This then they swore and heralds made 

The wide announcement to the ranks. 
On either side the cheers went up 

Like waters roaring over banks. 
The seconds then prepared the swords 

And tested them of steel approved. 
Then to and fro like ushers now 

Upon a gala-day they moved. 
Had then a traveller happened by 

And seen affairs just as they stood — 

(107) 



THE COMBAT. 

He'd thought two friendly parties here, 

On hunt intent, met in the wood, 
Nor known that sword with sword would 
cross, 

And on it all depend the woe 
Or weal of those who'd met in fio-ht 

One for his land, one 'o-ainst his foe. 
But so it was; Fairfax's heart 

Was lifted to his God in prayer 
For all the hosts that circled round 

And all their loved ones every where; 
Nor did he fail to ask that He 

Would shield his Jean from every harm. 
And, knowing then his Duty called. 

He found him with a steady arm. 
For prayer puts courage in the heart 

And steadies every patriot's hand 
To strike for home and all that's dear — 

The God w^e love and native land. 



(loS) 



THE COMBAT, 

Then quiet as a friend would go 

To meet a friend, peace on his face, 
He moves to meet the Lyle half-way 

And shake his hand with knightly grace. 
Swords then were crossed. The given 
word 

Was scarcely from the giver's lips, 
Lyle lunges with an angry stroke — 

Is parried — tries again and slips — 
His foeman kindly stops and waits; 

Recovered now he comes aeain; 
Swords flash; he strikes an under-stroke, 

But strikes his under-stroke in vain. 
The skilled eye of the Fairfax then 

Perceived the demon in the play, 
But wished his foe should see that he 

Was ready for him any way. 
As storms impetuous break and roar 

Upon some rugged, rock-ribbed hill 



(109) 



THE COMBAT. 

And fret and fume, because, forsooth, 

They can not have their testy will; 
So Lyle now rushed and angry swore 

As stroke met with a fellow stroke, 
And circline thousands into cheers — 

As warring clouds peal — sudden broke. 
As those spent storms fall into calm 

And settle to their deep repose, 
So Lyle now sinks him to the ground 

Beneath the bravest of brave foes. 
And mountains unto mountains speak 

As Fairfax' foot rests on his breast. 
When sudden calm broods over all, 

His, fallen foe he thus addressed: 
"Your life is mine. I grant it now 

On one condition. That shall be: 
Friendship forever shall abide 

Between my fallen foe and me." 
Lyle looked and saw upon his face 

A glory from the better land. 

(no) 



THE COMBAT. 



'I'm yours henceforth," he said. "I pledge 
The fealty of myself and band." 




(Ill) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 




T^HE Christmas comes to 
oflad the vale, 
New wakened from the 
sleep of years, 
And pouring forth its latent 
wealth . 
For him whom every heart reveres. 
That mind that held the reins of war 

And kept the demon in its clasp, 
Still reachinor forth with newer stroke 
And wider sweeps of mental grasp, 
Had bid the mountains brine their store 

And render homage unto men, 

(113) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

And Spread their laps to house and hold 

The teemingf hundreds from the oflen. 
New conquests followed swift his feet; 

With steam he stormed the very height, 
And far and wide the landscape laughed 

Beneath his eye's benignant light. 
On tree and bush, and grass and rock, 

Close hugging now the prattling creek; 
On hill and dale and upland slope 

And boulder, crag and mountain peak, 
The snow lies spread all soft and wdiite 

A virgin garb for that sweet day 
When all the world with tender love 

Should meet and lift their hearts and 
pray. 
The busy song of anvil now 

Is hushed; the panting forge is still; 
The ore-banks lie in peace; the beasts 

Range 'round the haystacks on the hill. 



(114) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

The happy children run and laugh 

And stir the old folks with their o-lee,. 
Content to have the thino^s that are 

o 

And leave the morrow those to be. 
The dusk comes o'er the distant heio-hts 

And spreads its wings across the sky. 
The ereat electric arc-lights eleam 

To guide the foot and glad the eye. 
The bell tolls from the steeple's throat 

A chime that sweetens all the air 
And bids the thousands meet and ereet 

The Christmas fete with praise and 
prayer. 
As vast white tents for armies spread, 

All snow-decked now the buildings 
rise, 
That are to house and warm the crowds 

That throng beneath the wintry skies. 
As mountain rills from pretty glens 

Stream down and orather into one — 

("5) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

Which grows in width and depth and 
streno-th 

As on it goes to meet the sun; 
So from the bright, sweet homes that lie, 

A fringe of glory round the hills, 
The multitude now gathers swift — 

Each by the route his good heart w^ills. 
The o-fand notes of the oro-an float 

o o 

Amid the reaches of the hall, 
And touch with rich devotion now 

The tender hearts of one and all. 
The pastors who had led their flocks 

Through seasons as they came and 
went. 
Now stand in prayer while heads and 
hearts 

In reverent love are near them bent. 
The lifted voice is full of thanks 

For blessings through the past year 

sown, 

(ii6) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

And eager pleadings that the world 

May soon its sovereign Master own, 
And rich crood will and lovine deed 

Adorn each heart and grace each hand 
And crown with peace and brotherhood 

The humblest home in every land. 
This over, lights flash on the trees 

That rise to meet the children's eyes, 
And 'mid their o-reen leaves weave the 
shades 

Of all the rainbow's pretty dyes. 
Gift on rich gift hangs tempting there, 

And little hearts are beatine fast 
With dj^eams that ai^e too beatctiful, 

Too golden-bright and sweet to last. 
And here and there the couples walk 

With arm in arm — a happy throng!. 
While oboe and xylophone 

And sweet-voiced violins vie with 



sone. 

o 



(117) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE, 

And here there moves a stately form 

And with him one of matchless grace, 
Whose bowine heads acknowledo^e friends 

By scores around with smiling face. 
And, as they pass, each reverent heart 

Says to itself a little prayer. 
That God may bless with health and joy 

"Glen Mary's" lord and mistress there. 
For Fairfax with his charming Jean 

Still loved and kept their trysting place 
And with their hands and bounty wreathed 

It daily with a newer grace. 
Till far and wide its good fame went 

As stayer of the needy hand — 
A royal blessing and a crown 

Of endless glory to the land. 
They mingle with the crowding hosts 

And for the nonce are lost to sight; 
The surging streams come passing by 

And parting go to left and right. 

(ii8) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

Now see a man of stalwart mold — 

A eiant oak from forests wide — 
And with him now a petite form — 

A fairy tripping by his side. 
Crede Lyle looks down in eyes all blue 

As waters under laughing skies, 
And Cordele owns her heart at rest 

As arm on arm now gently lies. 
Two stranee lives welded into one, 

By God's grace sweetened and made 
true 
To all that's good. The better now 

For what the Past has brought them 
through — 
A sturdy tree now settled square 

And ready for a noble growth — 
A pretty vine once storm-tossed, now 

In leaf and fruitage putting forth. 

A sweet lauorh as a child were here 

And glad to see some pretty toy, 
("9) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

Presents us with our cottage maid — 

"Luce" and her noble soldier boy. 
They walk and talk and halt to speak 

With some good friend who's passing by, 
And tell of how their little home 

Rounds up and out beneath the sky. 
And then she sees a little babe 

And runs to kiss it. "Oh! how sweet, 
Just see its chubby hands, its eyes, 

And oh! these precious little feet." 
The crowds press in, we lose from sight 

Our little Lucy and we hear 
The song of children as they march — 

A merry phalanx singing clear. 
The hour is on for festal glee — 

And line on line in circles whirls, — 
Each father hails his handsome boy, 

Each mother eyes her pretty girls. 
The red and blue and white and green 

And orange and the lilac glow; 

(I20) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

The pink and black and ecru come, 

The gray and mauve and scarlet go. 
The streaming ribbons dance and play 

Like leaves before a whirline blast, 
And eyes flash back in winsome zuay 

The pretty olances at them cast. 
The music fills and thrills the whole, 

And 'mid its lower keys are heard 
The bits of laughter break and stir, 

Like notes of some sweet wild-wood 
bird. 
The old folks in the neiorhb'rino- booths 

Look out upon the changing scene. 
And Reminiscence wakes anew 

The happy days that once have been. 
Meanwhile their appetites grow keen 

At savor of the unctious meal. 
Whose presence, reeking-sweet and 
glad. 

The lifted curtains now reveal. 

(121) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

The pig, well-roasted, sleek and fat, 

With apple in his jolly jaws, 
And parsley spread — a profuse garb — 

About him, like a magnet, draws. 
Scarce less a monarch of the hour 

Yon elorious gobbler rears his breast, 

o o 

And to the hungry, waiting soul 

Forebodes a longing soon at rest. 
The smaller orame — 't were useless now 

To mention — chickens, ducks and geese, 
Deer, rabbits, quail, some pheasants, here 

Opossums lolling in their grease. 
The oyster from his native bed 

Disturbed, a traveller in these parts, 
Has come to lend variety 

And gladden many happy hearts. 
The dishes of an endless make 

Here steam with fruit of every kind 
And all the garden and the field 

Supply to give us peace of mind, 

(122) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

And loaves all fleecy and as sweet 

As ever tempted human thought 
Are ranged at intervals, into 

The rarest shapes and sizes wrought. 
All things that go to make hearts glad 

And still the craving appetite 
Were gathered on the groaning boards 

To crown this orlorious Christmas nieht. 
The wine-cup and the whisky-glass — 

Fell wreckers of the human race — 
Found here, where Christian hearts were 
met, 

There was for them no fitting place; 
But men had manlier ways to glad 

The present than to soak their brains 
With fluids that have swept the world 

As great tornadoes sweep the plains. 
The aged now first lead the way. 

Their gray locks crowning honored 

brows, 

(123) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

And reverent bend their heads and say 

The grace a good heart ever vows. 
In turn each joins the feasting groups 

Assembled at the tables wide, 
And Converse lends her pretty charm 

To usher out the Christmas tide. 
Sweet stories of the olden times 

Float from the lips of other days, 
And woo the younger folks to vie 

In rich regard and fitting praise; 
Or else a maiden's coyness here 

Has tempted some o'er ardent swain, 
Secluded and alone, to press 

The suit he's pressed before in vain; 
Or pretty mother strokes the hair 

From off her dimpled darling's face. 
And glories in its laughing eye, 

Its boundine health and winsome orace. 

The feast now done, the hour is come 

To gather 'neath the Christmas trees 
(124) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

And portion to the happy throng 

The gifts as Santa Claus decrees. 
The young hearts glow and all their soul 

Expectant sits within their eyes, 
Awaiting now to welcome soon 

The rich gifts with glad, little cries. 
The busy ushers come and go 

And gladden one by one the w^hole. 
Till all the trees have rendered up 

Their fruit to ladder and to pole. 
Then sounds the proclamation far 

For peace and order once again. 
The surging crowds obey and rest 

As billows calmed upon the main. 
From where the dais sinks from sight 

Behind the curtains in the rear, 
The stately form and loving face 

Of My Lord Fairfax now appear. 
He waves his hand, the crowds, now still, 

All bend to catch his every word. 

(125) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

His voice, sweet toned and clear ran out 

So that each list'ning burgher heard: 
"Friends," so he speaks, "within your 
thought 

There Hes the memory of a vow, 
That once you made on upland crag- 

And lowland lea; where is it now? 
Here by my side your leader stands, 

A brother to my heart and soul 
And partner full; o'er you he wields 

With me an even half-control. 
Led on by wooings of that love 

That streams from God to sweeten 
life 
And still all cause for hate and o-loom 

Or further internecine strife, 
We come to-nieht to bless ourselves 

In blessing you. For we believe 
That surplus wealth is but a trust 

Bestowed of God that we may give 

(126) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

His bounty back to those whose sweat 

Has won it from the grasp of earth, 
And pass to God with hands as clean 

As when we came from Him at birth. 
Who lives alone for hoarded pelf 

Is Init a hicnger-smitten beast, 
Whose gnawing vitals famish 'mid 

The glozuing plenty of the feast. 
He misses all the subtle, sweet 

And radiant joy of those who live 
And follow Him who taught, 'It is 

More blest to eive than to receive.' 
So all these acres spreading wide, 

These mines that teem v/ith hidden 
worth. 
These foro-es threat'nino- to the skies, 

o o 

These buildings huCTorino- close the 
earth. 
Henceforth, in part are yours as ours; 

His share awaits each freeman here; 

(127) 



THE CHRISTMAS FETE. 

For him who saves, henceforth, my friends, 

The way to plenty now is clear. 
Our aim is for our mutual good, 
Yourselves and us alike to lift. 
(My noble wife unites her voice) 

Receive, my friends, your Christmas 
^ift." 
The welkin rang" and glad hearts wept, 

The preacher rose and raised the song, 
' 'Praise God from whom all blessino-s 
flow, " 
And with a prayer dismissed the 
throno^. 

o 




(12? 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

015 785 297 8 



